reflections from the wrong side of the glass

i like to stare out windows, at ceilings, walls, people. the mindlessness of it. the longing of it. of watching something happen outside of you, almost opens a portal to the infinite longing that lives within. i find myself wanting so many things, craving so many things, longing.

there’s a tree outside of this window, a big apartment building. all of the apartment windows have three rectangles up and down and double panes. i can’t see through, just some pieces of furniture in some windows. most are empty, waiting for people with their hammers and nails to come in and make it into something. the tree is just there, sometimes the leaves sway, sometimes not. the cars pass by and the people skate, bike, walk. most don’t even notice i’m watching them. the gate opens and closes and i can’t see anyone coming in or out, i just assume they are because the gate is opening, and closing.

but it’s quite possible that there’s no one coming in or out. that it’s simply opening or closing because it’s a malfunction, or an illusion- the way the light hits the gate. i also don’t know where any of the people are going, or where they came from or if they’re even human. i’m sure most of you have noticed the rise of the robot. modern day transformers. except they stay robots and forget their human origins. i can hear them in the background as i watch the tree deciding to sway, or not.

they sound like clones, obsessively speaking about falsities taken to be realities. synthetic. i can hear the malfunctions in their voice, the periods of silence where they don’t know what else to choke up. constant chatter, constant noise fills the looking glass. as it’s reflections divert away from the image it so poignantly places on display.

but on the other side of the glass… it’s quiet, slow, contemplative. nuanced, generalized. mindless. shapeless. all left to interpretation. to illusion. to imagination.

i want to live inside the glass. cross the threshold to the other side. live amongst the nuance, fully embrace the mindlessness. sway with the trees, contemplate coming and going with the cars and the bikes. walk in the peace. i don’t want to be on this side anymore with it’s loudness and empty chatter. i want to be on the other side.

alpha female unapologetic

#POEMBER #30DAYPOETRYCHALLENGE PROMPT: TRAUMA/FEAR

the girl was quiet, but profound

didn’t hang around the lost and found; lost but afraid to be found

wandered the world in her mind without ever leaving inside

fears included everything

eyes to the ground

no point in chasing

dreams, for her destiny was written

stared in too many broken mirrors

left the poison apple half bitten

wanted to die but afraid of death

the girl was funny, a light amongst friends

but trapped in a mind which she could not comprehend

outcast syndrome, fell in love with the silence

call it stockholm

a life alone, with no one to play with, no one to phone

a lifetime in isolation, in contemplation

led to many questions, to the acceptance

that many will go unanswered

if insecurity is a kingdom she was the queen

forehead felt like a thousand coals

when she felt seen

born with a want to hide, with no one to seek

she couldn’t understand why

games of who do you want to be?

where she wouldn’t dare utter “me”

why would she want to be herself?

her life was “hell”, her reflection fanned the flames, felt depression before it even had a name

perpetual sorrow, perpetually lonely

only trusted words cause they’re holy

attempted suicide only to find out she didn’t wanna die

traveled across the globe and found a home

maybe she did belong, her thoughts echoed

her soul bellowed

restless heart crooked smile

the quiet girl began to grow up

her heart was shattered

and as she picked up the pieces

she glimpsed into her life

the pieces a mirror, reflecting back the strife

she saw

her back slumped

weighed down by her eternal internal frown

she saw

her forgotten dreams

for this there was no sound

she saw

pieces of what could be

hidden behind the shatters, somehow still untattered

she was engulfed by an energy

that picked her up and sung her to sleep

she awoke

fearless

looked back at the pieces

“fuck you i dont need this”

she screamed

she was loud

making up for the times she was silenced

disavowed

picked up her chin, brushed off the frown

replaced it with a grin

she didn’t want to behave and bow her head

she wanted to be free and dance instead

at a young age took a vow to self to never fit the mold

wasn’t even sure who she told

what this meant

but that day as over the shatters she was bent

the fire crackled and lit

it wasnt too late

for herself to save

brainwashed at a young age

to believe some other equally lost soul was she to behold

as her king, her heaven and hell

he who knew what, for her, was well

explained many of her patterns, her projected trauma

so she vowed to fix what was broken

to re-wire the wires so she could swallow the truth and stop chokin

she stopped waiting for ghosts

for she grew tired of being haunted

hunted by the demons

that projected all the things she was scared to believe in

alpha female

unapologetic

in this story

she saves her self

don’t need a sequel

this life is prophetic

the girl evolved from omniscient third person

to first person

i

am no longer afraid to fly

i no longer want to die

but i accept the truth

and i am not aloof

i am emotion

sensitivty

vulnerability

these are my weapons in this society

so i scream from this page

don’t do what you’re told

unless it’s to reclaim

your narrative, your life, yourself

be free, for you create the heaven and hell

this is my truth

and i dont wanna be aloof

#poember ~ 30 day poetry challenge ~ day 10

TITLE: RESTLESS HEART, CROOKED SMILE

A heart of glass

a river of stone

gentle things

pretty things

of which destruction is not condoned

restless heart, crooked smile

tear it apart

make it worth while

what good is a heart

if it does not shatter

from overuse

whats the point of livin recluse

i say give it your all

and just let loose

dont allow fear to choose

i wanna be where the humans are

i wanna feel them dancin

swingin their hips to the beat of the world

lying on their backs

eyes rolled back

toes curled

life is so beautiful you know?

good and bad must exist

it’s about the balance

that must persist

for far too long

“bad” has tipped the scale

how bout we

let love in

and send the hate straight to hell

#poember ~ day 8 ~ 30 day poetry challenge ~prompt: decisions

TITLE: win or lose? you choose.

whats the difference between a win and a lose?

the choice to shoot the shot

and walk the walk

the choice to get caught

in the negative talk

decisions, decisions

which should i choose

should i kick out the chair

or loosen the noose

i can’t decide if i want to wake up today

the sun shines on my face

as the clouds roll into my head

i cant decide if i want to wake up today

or if im better off dead

decisions, decisions

which should i choose

take the risk of my dreams

or keep my head low and put on the news

a choice, a reflection of your voice

explains why the voiceless so frequently correlates with the choiceless

free will allows us to choose our bed

to lie in it too

indecision steals my will

stepping back into the wheel

robs me of my right to feel

whats right for me

not for the people i see

and the fingers they point

choose this choose that

or you’ll dissapoint

all around me i see

people making decisions

i wonder if they’re all following a vision

or taking stabs in the dark

with pure willingness to embark

i think what holds me back is my doubt

not sure if to choose this or that

what if i choose x and should’ve chose y

what if it creates the wrong timeline?

through analysis ive found

that when you make a choice

you should consider the outcomes

and which one will most align with your voice

sometimes this requires sacrifice

allow old habits to die

so new versions of you may come alive

truly, no choice can end in failure

because all end in experience

and experience shapes behavior

allow yourself to be molded by boldness

let it seep into your pours

as you make confident choices

make a decision

and stick to it

follow through

and let your courage see you through

i hope you choose life today

i hope you choose confidence

i hope you choose peace

and to the indecision lay seige

i hope you believe in yourself

because without belief in a heaven

we’ll all end up in hell

the cyclical nature of creation

reading helps me find my voice. just as “ello poppet” helps me speak a british accent. and “pulling a string” on my body helps me to create a character in improv. for every creation there is a model. if this is true then who created the first model? did the originators of all creations model their creations after anything other than the visions in their heads?

reading helps me find my voice. picks me up and places me into a world where there are only words, there is only literature. all else is white noise to the soundtrack of the writer. i read and words flow to me like i am the shore and the words are the ocean. endlessly crashing into me, seemingly retreating but always coming back to caress my feet. words are truly magical, they create nations and burn them down. they light the fires of love and give meaning to the days and nights. what would the world be without words? what would we use to express, how would we communicate? what other universal form of interaction would we create? would all be music? art? and without a universal model, would there be endless originality? endless creation? or is all creativity recycled at some point in time?

it seems an absolute truth to me that without eachother we can not create. however it also seems to me a truth that with eachother we can not create. something of a yin and yang this thought. that in order to create there must be a certain cyclical element specific to the art of creation and a certain linear element specific to the creator.

my mind spins with ideas. i am rich in ideas yet so so poor in creation. ideas are only ideas if they are not put to action. i could drown in a sea of ideas before i ever build a raft. however when i allow myself to look around the sea, maybe dive below and explore the carcasses of the past. i am overcome with ideas, with inspiration. i could build a million rafts from simply seeing that one raft was built one million years ago. there is something comforting in the knowledge that one of the mystery humans of the past has had similar ideas and of them created a raft with which to float amongst them.

all this to say, when we save ourselves, we save others. when we allow ourselves to create, to be; when we have the courage to create a model, a blueprint of a raft in which to float the sea of life. we create a portal into the minds of others, which they can tap into for centuries to come.

this is the cyclical nature of creation.

i love u

#poember ~ poetry challenge day 7 ~ relationships

TITLE: ONE DAY
an ocean so vast, an enigma so sweet

a field of possibility

of endless interpretation

and infinite defeat

human relationships

have always puzzled me

maybe its because im an only child

maybe its because ive never had one worth while

whatever it is i hope it goes away soon

because i think of genuine human connection and swoon

i love people, i do

but i dont know if people love me too

theres so many relationships to be had

platonic, intimate, good, bad

professional and … the ones that are just plain sad

most relationships seem to mirror the internal aspects of us

“show me your friends, and ill show you who you are”

the human psyche seems to be

the core of the information we see

its interesting because

all that we see is created by us

so maybe thats why my relationships may have always sucked

because of how i saw myself

and the aspects that away i tucked

i long for a place to lay my head

where i can rest

and be as weird as i want, no judgment

no comments about the shit that i said

people who just accept

me, for me.

the purest relationship that could ever be

is the one that recognizes all this for what it is

and sees all beings through that lens

as a reflection of all that exists

confronts others with grace and love

so below

as above

people can only know you as deeply as they’ve known themselves

and most people have only ever known hell

hope grows inside my soul

that as time goes on, more of ourselves we’ll know

and deeper into eachother we’ll come

as we release the judgment

allow all to become

relationships are a mirror

in which to see clearer

the problem is

when we don’t want to see what is

so we smash the mirror

forgetting that the reflection

although in another

is us

and when they suffer

we suffer

and we break human trust

i think honesty is the key

to connecting with someone

i haven’t been too great at it

i must admit

but i am working to get better

one day ill be able to hold your hand

woman or man

one day ill be able to hold your gaze

for days and days

one day ill let you hold me

one day ill tell you all my stories

one day

in the world

there will be true unity

one day

💜💜💜💜💜💖💖💘💘💘💞💞💞💓💓💓💓💓

#poember poetry challenge day 3- the me you see vs. the me i see

TITLE: A TRIBUTE TO BROKEN MIRRORS

in order to discuss the me i see

i must first discuss the me i saw

so you can join me

on the journey as we look back in awe

the me i see is in recovery

from everything that went wrong

when i looked in the mirror

the me i saw

was chasin bitter tastes

because everything she had ever tasted was bitter

and she wasnt sure if there would ever be anything sweeter

the me i saw

felt like she didnt belong

measuring her worth

with someone elses ruler

singing someone elses song

the me i saw

used fear as a veil to shield the bugs of reality

she played dead

so no one would go for her head

she gave others control of her life

then in turn blamed herself for the strife

blind to the fact

that they did not regard her as the precious artifact

that she was

that she is

one day un pajarito sent her a message

he told her that she was in charge

that she had to release the demons on herself

and conquer them no matter how large

no matter how real

no matter who they were

she had to let herself feel

relinquish the care

of what they had to say

because it didnt matter

anyway

she shed the betrayals, the mistakes, the self-hate

that had become her cloak

gifted to her by others

tightening around her neck until she began to choke

the me i saw worked with the me i wanted to see

to build a ladder

down into the deepest parts of me

the me i see is closer to the me i have wanted to be

everyday i let go of the past

i forgive myself

i allow myself to be me

i accept myself

the me you see

may be a weirdo

may be silent

may be distant

may appear unattainable

the me you see…….

honestly…..

doesn’t matter.

because truth is i dont know what you can see

i dont know what you have or will see

and if i base my focus on that

shit, ill become mad as a hatter

because no matter what i do

you will always see me through a lens

that is shattered

no matter how genuine, authentic or me i try to be

there will always be somebody who does not want to see

there will always be somebody who puts mud back onto their glasses

when its been cleared

there will always be somebody

who will look at the present through the lenses of the past

trying to make what is gone forever last

i HOPE the me you see

inspires you to be

lifts you out of darkness

and gives you a safe place to breathe

i have always felt misunderstood

a black sheep in a world of giraffes

but even with this thought

i still feel good

and that shit makes me laugh

because i am not my thoughts

and everyday i step into this more and more

i accept

that not everyone will accept me

and the me you see

may very well be

a skewed version, a version before the ladder

but thats okay

because i accept myself

i give myself permission to rise

about all the little eyes and the little lies

the me i see is proud of who she is

and doesnt give a FUCK

if you disagree

because hashtag i do this

and i dont need you to like me, to be free

this life is alchemy

a reflection of the collective consciousness

the me i saw, see

the me you saw, see

the you i saw, see

comprise the we

now

one thing i can guarantee

is that as life goes on

more of me, you will see

because if i dont give you all of me

why am i here?

30 day poetry challenge

GREETINGS POETS! i invite you all to embark on this 30 day poetry challenge for the month of november and december. #poember

follow the prompts on every day, record yourself and hashtag #poember

this is to promote self growth and confidence. to own your voice and show up in the world more authentically you! research the topics and develop a stance through self reflection. give it a shot! happy writing 🦋🦋🦋🦋

mismatched socks addicts anonymous

hi everyone my names sonia (“hi, sonia”) and i mismatch my socks. when i first started, i didn’t know how addicted i would get. at first it was just a quick way to get out the house. less to think about, just pull the first two socks i see. put them on my feet and off we go. it was euphoric. i felt free. no longer bound by the constraints of time, i could do anything i wanted. i started doin it more and more. even to funerals, i would mismatch beneath my black church shoes so nobody would notice. it soon progressed to sneaking away from my husband when we were folding our laundry and throwing my socks in different drawers so i had no choice but to mismatch. now i’m even doing it to my kids. the kids at school make fun of them now, saying their moms a disorganized sock freak. i don’t know how to stop. it feels so good, so free. but i know it’s a problem. i just can’t stop.